


Fenders: Snowed in for the Weekend

by scarletcougar



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletcougar/pseuds/scarletcougar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yule Gift Prompt: Fenders- Snowed in for the weekend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fenders: Snowed in for the Weekend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainCritical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCritical/gifts).



They huddled inside their small tent. Fenris resigned himself to pressing close to the mage. Anders had stretched himself out comfortably; hands tucked behind his head as he drowsily watched the roof of the tent darken with the heavy snowfall.

“Fenris, we’ll go back to that little run down cabin we saw in the morning.” The mage looked over at the shivering elf with some concern.

“I want to go now.” Fenris sat up in a rush and pulled on a second layer of clothing. He even pulled on the soft cotton socks and sheepskin boots Anders had gotten him in the last village.

Taking down the tent in a snowstorm was very tricky. It got rolled haphazardly and stuffed into the enchanted backpack. It took much longer to tromp through the thick snowfall on the ground back to the ruined cabin than it did to go from cabin to camp when they first rejected the cabin.

“I told you we should have just stayed there!” Anders gestured widely as he spoke, much as he usually does when he is annoyed. Anders ignored the irritable growl he received from Fenris.

Fenris hated being cold. He hated being bundled enough to be encumbered. He hated things on his feet like boots. He hated how everything got wet from the snow to chill you anyways. He hated the wind that seemed to cut through everything.

The cabin seemed already half buried. Anders had to use magic to blast away the snow from the door. One of the windows was broken, but the shutters at least kept the worst of the winter out. Fenris grabbed some of the logs from the side of the cabin, skeptical if they would even light with their rot and dampness, and dropped them again at Anders sudden yell from within. His brands lit and Fenris streaked to the doorway.

A corpse lay almost a skeleton on the sofa inside, a dusty wine bottle tipped over on the floor by the hand. “Oh… is that all,” Fenris drawled and headed back out for the wood he dropped.

Anders used a fraying blanket to wrap up the dry remains. “Well, at least it is so old it doesn’t smell! I wonder if he died of old age or was poisoned by the wine.”

“Who cares! Block the holes from the wind so we can sleep in some modicum of warmth in this vanhedis… Festan… COLD!”

Anders smothered a smirk. He didn’t quite know why, but it was bloody amusing listening to impotent anger from the warrior elf. He went about stuffing fabric into the warn holes in the wooden sides or roof or into the windows. He found a broom and swept the floor of glass and dust. Fenris piled the wood by the fireplace, tracking snow back and forth from door to fireplace. Anders spread his arms exasperated, “I just cleaned!” He didn’t see the corner of Fenris’ mouth curve in amused vengeance.

Once all was cleaned, both agreed that the body could remain where it was and they would just not use the sofa. Respecting the resting place of the cabin’s owner in their way. Anders blasted fire through the fireplace and up through the chimney to clear it and then got the fire going.

Fenris conceded the benefit of magic for being able to dry wood and create a warm fire. After dumping his pack and seeking a few items, he stood at the intact glass window which had no shutters, just staring out at the heavily falling snow.

Anders unpacked all their gear and repacked it better, leaving out bedrolls and blankets by the fireplace. He rummaged around the little kitchen area and found a pot he could boil water in or cook in and hooked it into place over the fire in the fireplace. Anders looked over at the elf, who was out of his cumbersome clothing, and even his boots, but wore the thick cotton socks Anders insisted he put on. Fenris was wiggling his toes in the soft socks trying to stir feeling back into them. The mage thought that was almost as adorable as purring kittens. Anders hung their wet cloaks on pegs on either side of the mantle to dry and lined their boots close to the fire to also dry. “Did you put on dry socks?” Anders asked.

The elf nodded from where he stood, still staring at the falling snow. He wrapped his arms around himself trying not to visibly shiver as he was still cold. Here in Fereldon, it was very different from where he came from. Minrathous was north, far north with deserts and tropical forests. Fenris just could not get used to this inclement cold weather.

Anders came to stand behind him, being a bit taller and definitely built with a larger frame, he easily looked over the tall elf’s shoulder. He noted the slight shiver from the warrior and frowned with a hint of pity. He tugged off his thick fleece sweater. “Here,” Anders pulled it over Fenris’ head. There was a brief snarl of surprise, a bit of wrestling and grumbling till the elf gave in and shoved his arms through the sleeves. Fenris turned his back on Anders again, refusing to look at the mage. Anders smiled to himself for the victory. He stepped back and asked, after giving Fenris a few minutes to calm down from the indignity of being manhandled into a sweater, “Better?”

Fenris grunted. Then he nodded. The sleeves were way too long, the shoulders too broad on him. It was like putting a child into an adult sweater. But it was blessedly much warmer, especially for having been prewarmed by Anders’ body heat. He sighed almost content and brought his hands under his chin, only the ends of his fingers stuck out the sleeves. That was alright, it kept his hands warm. He caught the front of the sweater’s collar in those fingers and brought it up, just under his nose. When he could hear Anders preparing tea and thought he was not looking, Fenris inhaled Anders’ scent from the sweater.

Anders saw. Anders smiled softly but said nothing to disturb what he witnessed. He quietly finished preparing tea. “Tea is ready,” he said some time after. “And your bedroll is even warm.” He stood and stirred the fire, not telling Fenris that he had been sitting upon the elf’s bedroll to warm it.

Fenris turned away from the window, his mood significantly milder now that he was no longer freezing cold. He accepted the mug of tea and sat upon his warmed bedroll.

Anders watched him briefly, “Sleep with the sweater on tonight. I don’t need it.” Fenris nodded and murmured a quiet thank you. “I think we will be snowed in for a bit, so tomorrow, we’ll see what the cabin has to offer. I’ll warm the sweater throughout the day and you can wear it again tomorrow evening.”

They sat quietly together, sipping tea and watching the fire.


End file.
